A Smutty Tale
by HelveticaStandard
Summary: A smutty story written as a way to pass time. Elia Martell x OC. Because, just because. :)
1. Part One: Wedding Night

**SMUTTY**

Disclaimer: ASOIAF is not mine, sadly.

a/n

Allrighty, this is a short work I did during lunch breaks. Meaning? Yes, meaning there will not be a regular update. I might write more, if the reception is good.

Coming from a broken home, I hated how Rhaegar abandoned his wife and children for Lyanna. No matter his justification, I hate him. I also hate the Starks, and oh and Catelyn. I have a lot of hate, I know. But I love Cersei! and Elia! Oh, and Tywin and Gregor and Ser Alliser Thorne! Gotta love the villains! Well, enough of my ramblings!

And do not forget to REVIEW! Review is the food of us dark creatures known as fanfic writers.

Warning: The M stands for Mature. Meaning you underaged kiddies should GIT OUT. I will trust you ickle kiddies to be responsible. *winkwink*

Chapter One - Wedding Night

Dornish Red was, perhaps the sweetest wine ever brewed. In truth, he preffered the Arbor, but the sweeter Dornish Red was more fitting to the taste of victory on his lips.

He sat by the window, the cool autumn breeze barged in, bringing the refreshing smell of the Narrow Sea.

Daeron Targaryen smirked into his cup, violet eyes darkening with each passing second, as he laid eyes on the woman that was his wife of two hours.

Elia, she was clad in a Dornish style wedding dress. The orange-red of the skimpy dress was complimentary of her olive skin. They brought out the smoky darkness of her eyes, akin to pools of murky black waters that Daeron would willingly drown himself in.

She shivered, either from his stare or the cold, "Should we not go to bed, your grace?"

Her timid demeanor was a mistake that would be fixed, he had seen her defiance in the face of the sneering court. Her strength when she stood as still as a statue before the Mad King. The sight aroused him more than her revealing dress, and now, she was a disappointment.

"In a bit. I wish to enjoy the wine. Your brother, Prince Oberyn, knew his wine well." He gestured at the seat next to his, deliberately placed to be on the coldest spot. "Keep me company, my lady."

Her eyes were burning, the woman thought he would humiliate and torture her, and despite that, held her chin high and walked over. Daeron hid a shiver. This was the woman he burned for.

"I apologize before hand, your grace, for I cannot hold my wine. My poor health left me unwanting of alcohol."

She sat, and Daeron could see the bumps of chill breaking over her smooth skin, and he lamented the sacrilage. He conversed with her half-heartedly, asking of the adventures she had as a girl with her siblings.

Ten minutes, and she clasped a hand on her mouth, sneezing quietly.

"Are you cold, my lady?"

She shot him a concealed dirty look. "A bit, your grace."

Daeron smiled winningly, patting his thigh. "A poor husband would I be, should I fail to warm my wife."

His grin must have been too telling, for a light of understanding dawned in her eyes. Her exasperated sigh was not altogether a bad sign, it was accompanied by a tiny, confused smile.

Elia rose gracefully, the thin dress swishing behind her, as she settled on his lap. Daeron inhaled deeply, her scent was far more intoxicating than even the wine in his cup.

"Do you like how I smell, your grace?" There was teasing in her voice, having discerned a purpose in his actions.

"Daeron," He murmured, staring deeply into her eyes. "Say my name, Elia. We are strangers no more."

Her returning smile was kind, yet not quite loving. It was too early, he told the disappointment in his chest, love did not bloom overnight.

"Of course, Daeron." The dornish lilt in the name brought a surge of fire in his veins.

He shivered, breathing in her scent again. He rubbed her cold arms until they glow with heat. "Yes, my lady. I like your smell. I like touching your smooth skin. I like the way you look." He nuzzled her bared shoulder, kissing and licking her flawless skin. "I like your taste," He abandoned her arms, powerful hands gripping the swell of her hips. "I like the shape of you."

Elia's face was flushed, desire and shyness fought over her mind. Her breathing had shallowed, though her smile grew. "It seemed you are well experienced with women, husband of mine."

It was a flicker, barely noticed, of distase in the depths of her eyes. He understood it. Elia was different, her Dornish heritage made her appearance exotic, not exactly meeting the standard of beauty of Westros. Jealous noblewomen were as dangerous as an armed knight, maybe even more with their gossips and lies.

Yet, none of those mattered. Elia was beautiful in his eyes. Her physique, her attitude, her wit. To him, she could have been the Maiden come again.

"Quite." He held her hips tighter, "But the privilage of a husband is to stay faithful to his wife."

"Most would call it a duty." She replied.

"Most do not have such beauty as wife."

She blushed in his sincerity, and when he leaned forward to capture her tiny lips, she closed her eyes and surrendered.

He was right, she tasted heavenly. The first was a chaste touch on the lips, a testing of water of sort. The second was deeper, more emotional, a thank you of sort for his declaration. The third was the longest yet, lips parting and tongues waxed gentle promises of potential unrealised yet.

He laid his head against her, eyes closed and breathing heavy, and Daeron almost lost his mind to her scent. "How was it, Elia?"

"Hmm, adequate." She said cheekily.

He was good, and she was the inexperienced one. The jealousy in his chest roared in triumph. His wife was pure of other men's filth. Another in his chest chastised him for fooling around with so many women before her. Yet the last part was glad he fooled about, for now the knowledge would be put to properly please this Goddess before him, for she would deserve nothing less.

"My lady is most hard to please." He pecked her lips, nibbling on the lower one. "It is good that I am no beginner."

Elia giggled softly. "Forgive me for I jest. You are more than adequate, Daeron."

He held her closer, whispering into her ears, "And still, I have more up my sleeve." And was gratified when she shivered and pressed herself closer to him. "Would you like to move to our bed, Elia?"

She nodded slowly, almost fearfully. The maids had filled her head with useless informations, it seemed. "Fear no pain, fair lady. I am not a green boy fumbling with his breeches."

She smiled shakily, "I should hope so, Daeron. Oh, the stories the maids told me..."

He laid her on the gold colored satin bedsheet, "You shall feel nothing but pleasure, Elia. This I promise."

She nodded, not entirely sure, but could do nothing else. He held her hand when she tried to undress. "Lay back, love, and let me worship my wife as is her due."

"You keep saying these things..." She murmured, gasping as he cupped her modest chest through the dress.

"All truth, I assure you." Daeron kneaded gently, coaxing pleasured sighs from her lips. "Does my praises pleases you?"

"Should it be truth, yes."

"Know my body then, it cannot lie." He took her hand, placing it upon the tent of his pants. Her face was red, but her smile grew confident, and her hand grew in certainty, knowing she aroused him so.

Daeron touches and kissed and licked every part of her exposed flesh. Her arms, her shoulders and slim neck, then whispered the filthy things he would do to her body, while slowly peeling back the golden shroud defending her virtue.

She was sweating, great pants heaved from her chest, her eyes were the darkest he had seen, clouded by overpowering lust. As the last piece of cloth was peeled from her divine shape, he leaned back and observed her.

Elia had a hand over her breasts and a palm over her slit, a shy and unsure smile playing at her lips. "It should be treason to deny me my princess' loveliness." He smiled at her, nudging the offending limbs away from his prize.

"And is it a crime for my prince to leer over me, while I am left wanting of his charm?" She retorted.

Daeron laughed and began to undress, but Elia stayed him, "It is only fair."

Amused, he leaned back into the bed, taking Elia's place as she took his, "Teach me, Daeron."

So he did, and a fast learner Elia was. She emulated what he did, kissing and licking slowly exposed flesh. When he was as bare as her, she touched his stiff cock, and the way she looked at it gave Daeron a sense of satisfaction. He had not disappoint.

Chaste as she was, growing up in Dorne and with Oberyn Martell as brother, Elia was not entirely clueless. She engulfed his prick in her small mouth. Clumsy as she was, the sight of his princess in such a filthy act gave raise to a surge of arousal.

"Enough." He grunted, pulling her head away from his wet cock. "Anymore, and I will shame myself." His woman laughed, and looked the more sensual with her puffy lips and drenched chin. "Lay down my lady, it is your turn."

She laid down, "I thought my lord is experienced with women? Was it a lie, perhaps?"

"In truth, you need more practice." He smirked when she flushed, "It is the sight of a proper princess, sucking cock like it was a delicious treat. It is a most satisfying sight."

Elia was beet red, "It is a wife's duty to tend to and please her man."

Daeron lifted her legs behind his shoulders, and licked at the honey trickling between her legs. "No, Elia, there shall be no duty between us. For now, it is pleasure and lust, and later, love."

Through her hithed breath, she smiled, "I would like that."

That was the last coherent sentence between them that moment. Daeron delved into her folds, chuckling in triumph at the sweetness he found there, for even with how insatiable he was of her taste, Elia easily provided even more.

Her little nub he pinched between teeth, and flicked with his tongue. It drove her spare with needs, gripping his hair painfully tight, her thigh clenched around his head. Elia wailed his name as she came undone for the first time, back arched away from the comfort of their bed.

She flopped back, boneless and strengthless, a wide smile spreading on her lips. "We are not done yet, are we?" She panted in fatigue, "I would be most disappointed if we are."

Daeron looked out the window, then back at his dark Goddess, nestled in gold satin, face flushed from pleasure, and smelled most intoxicating. "I do not intend for sleep."

Elia laughed, clear and beautiful like the chime of bells. He leaned over her, using his fingers to spread her, using her own wetness to ease the digits. Elia gasped and thrust her hips closer to his finger.

"Does it hurt?" He peered at her.

She shook her head, "I feel... full, a bit unpleasant, but not painful."

Daeron slid two fingers into her, slowly adjusting her to penetration. Not long after, Elia began moaning in earnest, babbling nonsensical words of praises and his name. "No more, Daeron. Tease no more." She whimpered, "I want to be one with you."

He was aware of how painful his cock was in the short moment since they first touched the bed, but endured for her sake. Her words brought back all the lust and broke down his thin patience.

His hands slipped out of her, Elia mewled at the loss. "Shh, relax my princess, this will sting."

She was too far gone into the haze of pleasure. Elia's longs legs clamped around his waist, ankles locking together and pulling him in. Daeron chuckled, "Impatient, my fair lady?"

Elia whined in response, her legs flexed, trying to pull him. Daeron leaned over her, one arm propping himself, the other lined his cock against her smoldering core. He pushed and prodded at her entrance, sliding in very slowly, aided by the slick of her musk.

Daeron pushed through her last defense, and his princess sucked in a painful breath. Daeron stilled his hips, peppering her face with soft kisses and muttered apologies. When he felt her relaxing somewhat, he continued, slow but sure.

"Does it hurt?" He asked softly, after fully sheated inside her.

She nodded, unshed tears brimming in her eyes, and wincing. "A little, stay still."

Daeron kissed her, deep and slow, trying to quench the roaring fire of desire in him. The beast caged behind his ribs howled in victorious conquest. He had long hold a flame for Elia Martell of Dorne, and she was finally his. The taste of true victory was inebriating.

He could no longer delay, the heat and tightness was maddening. Daeron pulled back very slowly, then ground against her, just as slow. Her lips parted with every movement, eyes blown wide from pain and pleasure.

"Is it good?" He murmured against her lips.

"Yes," She replied haltingly, "Yes. More?"

Pleasure had clouded her mind, and her refreshing wit was taken away. It was a good sign, of course. His pride puffed up its chest, content to have pleased his woman so. "As my princess commanded."

He sped up, and was rewarded with her breathy moans. She would keen beautifully when he pushed, and would whimper needily when he pulled. A virgin's tightness was unrivaled, and with a beauty such as Elia's, experienced as he may, Daeron feared he would be undone by this woman all too quickly.

He pushed and pulled against her, letting his instinct run free since she had adjusted.

Her neck and upper chest was a mass of red marks, mercilessly kissed and liberally marked. Spine bent, Daeron kissed the valley of her breasts, then engulfed one in his mouth, while kneading the other. Her nipple he rolled in tight grip, earning high-pitched mewls from Elia.

Every woman had a sweet spot, and Elia was no different. Elia's was rather deep, in the upper walls of her tightness, Daeron found. He angled his cock, stilling for a second, commiting it to memory.

"No! Don't stop!"

He smiled at her protest, then claimed her lips before he thrust strongly. Elia's shriek would have awoken the entire keep had he not swallowed it.

He thrust, once, twice, three times, and she tensed. Her walls tightened, sweet nectar of love flooded the impossibly tight passage, squeezing down on his cock.

Daeron let go of his restraints, groaning her name as he came, coating her insides with white.

Exhaustion crept in, Daeron managed to throw himself to the side of the bed, narrowly avoiding crushing her under him.

She was dazed, her perfect body quivering with aftershocks of sex, her eyes glazed and a large smile plastered on her lips. He pulled her in, kissing her again. A gentle and chaste touching of the lips, but so much more emotional than physical.

"How was I?" Daeron caressed her face, tucked close against his heart. Fitting, he thought.

A playful twinkle entered her eyes, "Adequate. But I do hope Prince Daeron Targaryen, a master of the sword and spear, would have more stamina and not be done so quickly?"

He chortled at her blatantly crude innuendo. "I like this short pause," Daeron pressed a kiss to her temple, "It allowed me to savor the moment of closeness, to appreciate this beautiful Goddess of a wife I have."

Her face darkened with a blush, but her gaze did not waver. "You should say more of these things to me."

"I would tease that my lady likes her flattery, but these words are anything but. 'Tis only the truth I spoke of."

Elia tittered, pressing a kiss onto his shoulder, leaving a bright red mark against his pale skin. "Mmm, my princely husband knows how to use his mouth and tongue properly."

Daeron found her hand, and entwined their fingers together. "And now I would prefer your mouth to be screaming my name while I fuck you into our marital bed. It needs to be broken in."

She flushed, "Such crude language, Daeron. What would the realm think? Their prince reduced into this animal?"

He manouvered her, his legs were under hers, her legs slung over his thighs. They laid, side by side, Daeron smirked as he lined his cock against her dripping entrance. "They would understand. For what man can resist a Goddess, when she laid so docile in his bed and smelled of his seed?"

He entered her slowly, the posistion made her tight passage almost unpassable. Elia had to shift slightly to take him in, but they were finally joined again. The first was of careful preparation, the second would be a sating of his hunger.

Daeron's arms around her were like bands of steel, holding her in place as he kissed and licked her neck and breasts, and fucked her with abandon. He was sure her screams awoke the floors above and underneath them.

They came together again, gushing even more mixed liquid onto the golden satin sheet.

"That was intense," she observed, panting hard with his cock still lodged in her.

"Hmhm," He kissed her deeply. "That was me having my fill." Daeron eyed her sweat drenched body, glistening in the soft glow of scented candles. "I fear you shall not be sleeping tonight, fair lady."

She sighed dramatically. "Oh, the agony! What have I commit myself into?"

Amused, he loomed over her again. "It is not a burden or agony when your lips called my name and your body tightening even more."

"Was it my fault to have a husband so skilled in sex?" She batted her eyelashes.

"Lovemaking," he corrected her. "Any lecher can learn how to properly fuck. I have had my pleasure, now I will worship this wanton flesh of my young wife."

She was starting to get used to his bedroom language, for Elia delighted and beckoned with a crooked finger. Daeron crouched atop of her again, settled between her spread legs. He took his time, a slow and steady rhythm.

"Faster Daeron," The vision of beauty under him writhed, "I need more, love. Faster!"

He chuckled at her pout, "No. This is the last one for the night, and I want it to last as long as it could." He silenced her protest with his lips.

It was true, Elia might not have felt it, but he saw it. Her fragile health would not allow such a prolonged exertion. Even now, clouded and drunk, Elia showed signs of fatigue.

His kisses was gentle, with tentative nips and licks against her bosom. Their hips rolled slowly, meeting and parting within the same wavelength.

He cupped her face, staring deeply into her delicate face, contorted into a blissful smile. The way her breath hitched everytime he rubbed at her sweet spot, how she mewled when he suckled on her nipple, and her shriek when he pinched the nub above her slit.

He saw all of her, and basked in her glow as they tumbled over into the pool of pleasure together.

There was no loud shrieks and grunts this time, only mouths opened in a silent wail of ecstasy, with spines arched and nails and teeth digging painfully into flesh.

Daeron flopped down next to his exhausted love, and pulled her close. Elia was already half-asleep as he pulled a cover over them.

"Feels good." She mumbled, and dozed.

He nibbled on her ear, "Rest, my love, tomorrow will require your strength. I am far from done with you, fair lady."

Elia nodded against his thumping heart, he could feel her curved lips on bare skin. "Neither am I."


	2. Part Two: Art, Ink, and Naked Goddess

A Smutty Tale

Disclaimer: ASOIAF is not mine

A/N

So here we are... Initially, I wanted to make this a progressive story of acceptance, compromise, and finally, love... Unfortunately, I have not the willpower nor the time to do such a massively complicated story, and fortunately, I understand this perfectly.

Hence, this will be an interconnected oneshots of smuts instead... When I have the energy, that is...

p.s. I blame DigitalExtremes for their marvelous game called Warframe which sucked away at my focus to do anything else... By the way, let me know if you play the game and wanted to join a clan. God knows my clan needs more people. We only have 3 players in it! ARGH!!!

That said, do enjoy the smut and do give a review. I rarely, if ever, reply to reviews, but I do read all of them!! And they give me butterflies... :))

-A Smutty Tale-

Part Two: Art, Ink, and Naked Goddess

From her time being with Daeron Targaryen, Elia knew her man to be sweet, caring, and madly in love with her.

Thus it was not strange, that when Elia entered his study, she found paintings of herself, scattered all over his desk.

She could tell each of them, for he had asked her to pose for them.

One was of her smiling when he gave her a boquet of yellow roses. Another, of her gazing at a distance horizon when they sailed back from Dorne. On the edge of the desk, of her silhouetted behind a thin curtain. Elia perused the drawings, amazed at how artistic her husband could be.

Then, one painting caught her eyes.

"Elia?"

She ignored Daeron calling her, so focused on the painting that she did not ever remember ever posing for. She picked it up, face burning and brows furrowed.

"Elia?" He was close behind her, his breath tickling her bare neck, his arms wrapped around her middle. "Love, what is the matter- Oh..."

She held up the picture, hand trembling slightly, of herself on her back, in the throes of passion, with her hair mussed up, her lips swollen, her eyes clenched shut, and golden satin wrapped all around her like bondage. "When- How-"

The impossible man had the audacity to laugh, and his pretty violet eyes were not apologetic in the least and his perfect lips curled into a smug smirk. "Beautiful isn't she? I call this piece, the Naked Goddess."

"It's embarassing!" She found her voice but a squeak as she struggled to turn and scowl in his face. "And to leave it lying just anywhere! What if the servants-" Her eyes widened, so that was why Ashara was looking at her so- "Daeron!"

He laughed louder. A deep voice and refreshing, resonating into her bones with their warmth and richness of emotion. "I do apologize for not asking your permission to paint this, but I will not apologize for making it. It is a most beautiful piece, my love."

He knew just the words to make her so confused, she did not know whether to slap or to kiss him.

Elia opted for both. She kissed him hard, but dug her nails into his shoulders, and was rewarded with a half-pained, half-pleasured hiss.

Daeron pushed her against the desk, and Elia bit his lip as she squirmed half-heartedly. The 'Naked Goddess' was crumpled halfway on her way down, pinned under an elbow. The rest of the papers were scattered, an ink-well tilted over, smearing black liquid over the papers.

"The paintings!" She gasped, both her hands were already pinned above her. Her husband's larger bulk pinning her in place. "Daeron, your paintings-"

"Leave them." He growled into her neck, one free hand frantically trying to undo his breeches and lift up her summer dress at the same time.

As a Dornish woman, Elia disliked the thought of her husband taking his own pleasure without her participating. He may dominate her physically, and it cannot be helped that his rough hands made her slick with lust, but Elia was not powerless either. She wiggled her hips, grinding against Daeron's erection knowingly.

He cursed under his breath, and she giggled breathlessly.

It was born out of practice that Daeron managed to undo his breeches and lift her dress and pushed aside her smallcloth at the same time. Elia's breath hitched when his fully engorged cock prodded against her soaked slit.

"Already so wet, my wife?" He was smug again.

Elia felt the need for retribution. Physical strength meant nothing when she can drove him mad with lust in a single sentence.

"Daeron," His name rolled out of her lips in a purr, "My love, do not make me wait."

She saw it before she felt it. His eyes darkened and his hips surged forward and their flesh met with a most wanton of smack.

She cried out, head thrown back and there was a sharp pain by her waist; likely the ink-well pinned under her. Daeron latched onto her neck in an instant, sucking and licking under her jaw. Her Dornish summer dress, already thin and easy to undo, was ripped away. His hips working as frantic a pace as her legs, locked around him, would allow.

Elia mewled with each thrust, both in pleasure and pain of the ink-well digging into her hip.

"You are perfect, my love." He whispered in between thrusts, Daeron leaned down to her breasts, kissing the valley between her mounds of flesh. "And you are mine." He kneaded her breast, pinching her nipple gently, "And I am yours."

She almost cried at his words, filled with so much emotion as he loomed over her, gazing at her with such devotion in his jewel like eyes. He thrust into her hard, their sweaty flesh met with a loud, wet slap. His cock parted her folds, filling her to the brim as his words had filled her heart.

"I love you." She knew she was babbling, and how undignified it must have made her look. But to Daeron, who had bared himself to her, Elia wanted to return the favor. "I love you." No matter how many times she said the words, they were not enough. "I love you." Never enough.

Daeron groaned, he released her limbs in favor of gripping her hips tightly as he thrust into her, harder and harsher with his mounting lust. He angled their hips, and when he pumped her, he hit the sweetest spot in her, Elia shrieked and came undone.

He bent over her, body freezing and mouth growling as he pierced her deeply, and shot his hot seed directly into her womb.

They stayed for some second, heaving and sweaty, but fulfilled and satisfied. Daeron peppered her face with gentle kisses, his hand finding hers, their finger intertwined together.

"They fit," She murmured with lethargy, their noses touching and foreheads pressing together, "Our hands."

"They were made for each other." He replied, grinning. "Let me paint you like this."

"Like this?" She blamed it on the sex, her brain had turned to mush, and her quick wit was nowhere to be found.

"Yes. Spread on my desk, with pieces of my precious arts vandalized beyond recovery, looking like a Goddess instead of a woman." He began kneading her breast again, coaxing a satisfied moan from her. "Will you let me?"

"Only if we can destroy it again later." Her wit had seemed to return, "Just like this."

Daeron's smile was absolutely dazzling, "For the next, I was thingking of using soap and water, instead of ink."

Elia hummed softly, wrapping her arms around his neck, "Mmm, we can do it now, mayhaps. I do need a proper bath." The look on his face was so hopeful, Elia giggled the sight. She wagged a finger infront of his face, "But only if you carry me up, the ink-well has been digging into my hip, and it is rather unpleasant, now that I think about it."

"Why did you not say anything earlier?" He lifted her boneless form into his arms, and clucked his tongue, "Tsk! Your lovely hip, it is quite bruised, Elia."

She smirked, "I could mention it earlier, but it would mean stopping you. I would rather you not stop, husband." Her smirk widened when his cock, still hard and still buried in her, twitched. "In fact," She purred, "I think I want some more, we do need work on an heir for the crown-"

Elia yelped when Daeron pushed her back onto the table. The offending ink-well and other things that could hurt her was swept to the floor, where they tumbled away with awful noises. "Yes. We do indeed. An heir."

Her laughter turned into moans as he began to pump into her. Her thought was scrambled again, and in the hazy mist of pleasure, Elia realized how much this man affected her.

His form drew her sight each time, his scent made her light headed, his words made her swoon, and his cock made her cry out like a whore instead of a proper princess.

And Elia did not dislike that.

She did disliked it when he stopped. She whined, "Don't stop! Daeron, I want more!"

His laughter was mocking, and Elia felt her face burn with embarassment. "Not stopping, sweet woman, just pausing." He coaxed her to turn, and bent her over the desk. Elia shivered when his calloused hand ran over her back, "I know you like it like this."

She threw a half-lidded look over her shoulder, "If it is you, Daeron, I know I will like anything you do to me."

Men were egoistical creature, and took pleasure when women submitted to them. No matter how sweet her Daeron was, he was a man, and not an exception.

His hand on her hip tightened, digging into the bruise left by the ink-well. Elia whimpered, feeling his cock in her swell, stretching her already full quim. Daeron's other hand clasped behind her neck, holding her in place.

"Still like it?"

Elia whimpered playfully, nodding as much as she can against his restraining hand. "Yes, I love you, Daeron. Hold me and fuck me, love."

It was not a complete lie, either. She liked it when he held her still and rut against her like a common animal. It bruises her a bit, true, but the knowledge that she had the power to bewitch and turn her gentle man into a ravenous beast...

A very powerful feeling, and stoked the fire in her core to impossible heights.

He rutted against her, then. Each thrust from him, pushed her against the desk, the edge of the wood dug into her pelvic. Her brusied hip was painful, and Daeron did not seem to care or realize.

The thought sent liquid fire rushing in her veins.

A sharp, stinging crack echoed. Elia could not see, but she felt the imprint of his palm against her ass cheek. The delicious heat made her nectar gush.

"Like it?" He barely sounded human anymore, and she barely understood his growl. Elia basked in the thought.

"Yes!" She squealed, pressed against the hard wooden desk, "Yes, husband, I love it-" She screamed with another smack to her ass.

He swore loudly, pumping into her folds with abandon. Elia gasped with each thrust, her breath knocked out of her lungs on each spank, and she felt her own liquid trickling down her legs as she tightened for him, milking his cock as hard as she could.

Not long, Daeron tensed, and then his seed was sprayed in her. Coating her insides with the evidence of his love. The warmth made her shiver and pushed her over the peak.

The pressure lifted from her instantly. She was pulled up, and craddled very gently to his chest.

"Did I hurt you?" He murmured softly, concern echoing in each syllable.

Elia, tired and bruised and filthy from ink and sweat, snuggled against his chest. "Nothing I do not want you to, my love."

He breathed a sigh of relief, and his touches was so tender and warm they made her melt in his arms.

"What did I do to deserve you, Elia?"

Elia closed her eyes, smiling against his shoulder, content in knowing she was loved and cherished, "So long as you remember that, Daeron. Now take me to bed and keep me warm." She peeked at him, grinning devilishly, "If you are good, I might let you scrub my body after."

The look on his face made her smirk. She had more power over him, afterall.

-A Smutty Tale-

A/N

Alright, this is it.

I felt it was a bit... Meeeeh. Not my best effort, tbh.

So, I need your help to press that sweet review button, and let me know what you think I lack and how can I improve?

Since we all want quality smut, we all must do our part, am I right?

Until next time, folks!

Cheers!


	3. Part 3: A Flower Amidst the Sand Dunes

A Smutty Tale

A/N: Didn't think this will get another review; but AbraxasLD proved me wrong. So I pulled ny head out of my bunghole; and managed to put this up.

AbraxasLD, thank you for the kind and encouraging words; I do not believe you have read it a hundred times though! (:p)

In any case, enjoy the story. As always, let me what you guys think through the review. I don't reply to review, because I am too lazy, but I do read them all!

Let me know what other sexy-times you guys want this couple to engage in I can't promise to always write; but I will if I have the time.

Cheers!

Part 3: A Flower Amidst the Sand Dunes

Dorne was a breath of fresh air; both literal and figurative.

The sound of children filled the air, laughing as they played in Doran's Water Garden. Here, Daeron was free of King's Landing terrible scent; and the pressure of politics.

The Crown needed an heir; but Daeron was adamant against it. Elia's first pregnancy was hard on her; leaving her bedridden for months. The Crown will have to contend itself with Rhaenys as queen; that, or wait for Rhaegar's children.

Daeron walked into the room; spying the gaggle of handmaiden attending to his lovely wife. Elia was laid with only a thin silk towel covering her delectable body; scented oil were being rubbed onto her back and limbs, making her olive skin shone like polished gold as she received her massage.

His cock was getting hard.

"Leave us and make sure my daughter does not interrupt."

Rhaenys was a darling, but she can be terrible with her timing. Elia's handmaidens left in a hurry, and Daeron locked the door to their guest room.

His wife's smoky dark eyes were already half-lidded; eyeing him with a predatory leer. The massage had relaxed her, it seemed.

"Such terrible timing, husband." It did not take away her wit, however.

"Apologies, dear lady." He murmured as he stalked closer.

"Apologies should only be made when one meant it, my lord."

"What makes you think I did not mean it?"

Elia laughed throatilly, her elbows propped her up from the massage bed; giving him a facefull of her cleavage; shadowed by the dim light. Tantalizing and alluring. Her slender, porcelain smooth hand gestured at his crotch.

"You are a terribly libidinous man, my lord."

He reached her matress and knelt; leaving his tenting pants aligned to her face.

Elia laughed again, "Such uncouth behavior. Whatever shall the court say when they know?"

"They will say my wife's perfect body aroused me."

She laughed again, but he heard a bitter note in it. "She has lines on her belly now, my lord, and her teats sagging."

"Still a body that pleased her lord husband." Daeron replied, "Now undo my breeches, my lady. Your handmaidens will not stop Rhaenys for long."

Her lips curled playfully, "If that is what my lord husband wished of me."

He scooted closer, and Elia fumbled with his pants; undoing them in a fluid motion. They fell to the floor and his cock sprang out; rock hard and throbbing.

"Already so excited, hm?"

She kissed the tip of his cock; then slowly engulfed the head. Pumping the shaft as she suckled on it; pushing it deeper inch by agonizing inch. Her tongue swirled around the base of his cock head; then prodded his slit. His wife had grown skilled from practice.

She looked up at him; eyes heavy-lidded and dark murky pools of lust. He nearly lost his control.

"That's enough, Elia." Elia pulled away with a grin; Daeron tucked a strand of curly hair behind her ear, and lifted her chin up. His wife rose along until their faces met; and her kissed her tenderly. "I do believe it is your turn, dear lady. On your back, my love."

Elia shrugged off her silk towel; and laid back onto the massage bed; facing upwards, she scooted to the edge. Daeron laid halfway onto it, his knees still on the cool tile; and his upper body laid on the matress. Elia's long legs took their usual place by his shoulders.

He could see the stretch marks on her belly; the remnants of her battle against the Stranger as she brought Rhaenys into the world. For a moment, to Daeron, her stretch marks were more arousing than her soaked folds.

He ran his tongue over her marks; Elia looked down in surprise, and no small amount of trepidation. He would just have to get her used to it, then.

"They are the proof of our love. I would no more wished then gone than I would trade you for another woman." He told her, and enjoyed the way her cheeks darkened.

"Flatterer." No heat in her words.

Daeron grinned wolfishly, and scooted lower to lap at her gushing folds.

Elia tasted intoxicating, as usual. No matter how much he indulged in her taste; it never failed to make him heady. Elia's breathless moans spurred him; digging his tongue into her core, feeling her heat almost melting him. He bit her nub, flicking his tongue over it; her fingers dug into his scalp, the stings were anchor that he did not lose himself in her.

Daeron slipped two fingers into her, moving them roughly in search for her elusive spot. When he found it, his woman gasped; her slit gushing like a broken dam. The scent invoked in his mind the darkest and most depraved thoughts of Elia's sensuous body.

He sipped on her nectar; Elia whimpered beautifully as the last drop of her sweet musk left her. He rose and saw her eyes clouded. Good, her wit was gone now.

"Such divine taste, Elia." He murmured against her lips.

She whined, slinging her arms around his neck. Daeron kissed her; coaxing her tongue out then suckling on it. Elia's whimpers were maddening; so was the way she unconsciously hooked her legs behind him.

"Impatient, love?" He kneaded her breast; they had grown slightly after her pregnancy. "I wonder, is there still milk left in here?"

"Find out, then, Daeron." Elia murmured.

He needed no further prompt; snuggling into the valley of her breasts. He inhaled her scent, mixed with the oils; then moved to engulf one dark bud in his lips. He rolled her other bud in his figers.

His wanton princess arched her back; pushing more of her flesh into him. Daeron suckled strongly as he kneaded. There wasn't any left, he knew; it didn't stop him from enjoying the feel of Elia's bosom in his mouth.

He let go with a strong pop and a string of saliva. Leaving a wet and erect nipple in his wake; and a quivering Elia.

"There doesn't seem to be any drop left. Pity."

What little wit she had regained was lost again, it seemed. It thrilled him that Elia would turn into this carnal mass of sinful curves whenever she was on her back.

"Daeron... Please." She whispered, her Dornish lilt rolling around his name; not unlike a purring feline. "Please."

"Please what, my princess? You should ask properly, or I might not know what to do with such a sinful woman."

She bit her her lip, chewing on it. He could picture the gears turning in her mind; weighing if it was more sensible to give in and beg, or to resist and tease him. He cupped her lower mound, raking his fingers over her finely trimmed pubic hair; giving his wife a reason to beg.

She folded then.

"I need my lord husband to fuck me. I need you inside me, Daeron." Elia babbled.

"In your cunt or your ass? Be specific, love."

His Goddess squirmed, "Both. Seven Hells! Both, please, please, Daeron please."

He chuckled, dark and depraved and merciless. He remembered the first time he sodomized her. At the time, he was aroused, and she had been heavily pregnant with Rhaenys. Her hands and mouth simply wouldn't do it anymore; and Daeron refused to touch another woman.

Elia had taken pity on him and confessed that Oberyn had sent her a book on anal-sex. That had led to an awkward fumbling; Elia on her hands and knees while Daeron kneeling behind her and consulted the book step by step. Before long, Elia was addicted to it. The depravity of the act aroused her more than the sensation itself.

"Oh, you horny, horny princess. What will the court say, when they knew Princess Elia like her husband's cock stuffed in her ass?"

Her retort died a swift death when he impaled her gushing cunt. Elia wailed digging her nails into his shoulders. He lifted her up; Elia still impaled on his cock; and moved to the cupboard. Each of his step bounced his wife on his cock, impaling the meaty appendage deeper and deeper into her cunt; eliciting a throaty cry from her.

A discreete letter to Oberyn ensured there was a hidden stash of enema pump hidden behind a fake cupboard wall; along with a jar of lube. It took several tries and more fumblings; as he knelt to pick the items; Elia mewled along with each of his movement; but eventually, he managed to take them without dislodging his cock from Elia's smoldering core.

Daeron pushed her against the wall; his legs spread and propped her up. He fumbled again; inserting the hose of the pump into the jar, then the other end into Elia's forbidden passage. Made unnecessarily harder with his wife sliding up and down the wall with his shoulders as leverage; to continue their rutting on her terms.

Elia whined when the hose entered her; keened beautifully when the first drops of the lube were pumped into her. The sensation forced her to stop moving, eyes clenched shut and mouth opened wide, riding on the pressure that slowly bloating her belly. It was a reminder of what she was unable to give him; what she, though not her choice, had denied him. To see her filled with his child again.

Daeron rubbed at her expanding tummy; a part of him longing to see her heavy with his child. It was fortunate that Elia was delirious that she did not notice. His wife would have insisted he impregnate her if she knew, regardless of the risk; she was selfless that way.

When he judged her filled up; Daeron brought her to the corner of the room. Pinning her on the wall above the waste-pot; he kissed her bared neck, leaving marks that he would shamelessly forced her to show her handmaidens; as her flushing face was too lovely to ignore.

"Daeron." Her breath hitched; her stomach rumbled, Daeron smirked against her lips. "It's coming out..."

"Then let it out, wife."

Elia, sweaty and flushed, glared at him. "It's going to leave a mess."

"What do we care, we won't be the one cleaning it."

Her stomach rumbled again; Elia whimpered and put her hand over her rosebud; trying to stall the coming tidal wave. Daeron drew back, and surged into her; Elia cried out, desperately holding her dignity intact.

"Daeron!"

"Let it out, my love." He chewed on her lips.

"No! If you don't put me down, now, you won't ever touch me again!"

They both knew it was an empty threat on her part; Elia was as addicted to him as he was to her. Daeron chuckled, slowly easing his wife down, "I am just teasing you, love."

Elia's glare remained firm as she squatted over the pot; which put Daeron's cock in her face. She reached for it without being prompted; and pushed it into her mouth.

"Like a proper whore you are, my lovely wife."

Dark brown eyes darkened further with lust; he could see her remaining free hand reaching down to rub at her nub; occassionally disappearing into her slit, two, three fingers at a time. The dirty sound followed soon; squirting the mud-brown feces into the pot.

As disgusting as he found the stench of her feces; his lust hazed mind told him it was Elia's. Everything Elia is beautiful. From her brown eyes peering up at him; her wide hips; to her tiny pink lips, both cunt and mouth, wrapped snug around his cock; the lines on her belly; her smallish breasts; even the smell of her shit...

She drove him spare with need.

Daeron let loose inside her; the pure white seed, thick with his desire for her, burning with his need for her, coated her tongue and painted her insides white. Elia pushed the cock deeper, directly into her throat as his pulsing cock sprayed its juice directly down her gullet.

Daeron's knees buckled; almost falling over but managed. His cock left Elia's mouth slowly, his wife reluctant to let it free from her clutches. Elia gazed at him hopefully, "You are not done, I hope?"

Those eyes would be enough to harden his cock. Daeron smirked at her, slapping her cheek with his half-hard cock, "Then you have better tried your best, my love."

Elia laughed a delightedly perverse laugh.

"Lay down," She commanded as she rose and put a lid on the pot to stave off the stench.

He laid down on the matress; watching her intently. Elia fetched her towel and slipped it between her legs; dragging it back and forth along her cunt and her ass; he could imagine the delicious friction as it twisted her face. Her hips gyrated on the silk towel, a private personal dance that only Daeron was privy to; and he saw the wet spots she left on the length of the fabric. Her lower lip tucked between her teeth; eyes darkening with delighted carnality.

His blood roared in his ears; but he had plenty of blood; and the rest flowed into his cock. It was rising steadily; a monument and proof of his devotion to his wanton Goddess. Daeron barely heard her lilting laugh as Elia witnessed her effect on him.

Elia crooked her finger at him, beckoning; turning and sashaying away towards the shelf. She wanted to be taken like an animal; he would indulge her. He leapt at her like a man possessed; her surprised scream was music to his ears.

Daeron bent her over a shelf of scented oil. His wife scrabbled and fought him half-heartedly; resulting in many jars of oils shattering on the floor. He could care less about the wasted oils; only caring that enough was left to slick his cock.

"Daeron!" Elia gasped

His oiled fingers sunk into her squeezing anal passage; moving ferociously in chaotic pattern; not that she needed too much stretching-

"Put it in, my love; Gods, please put it in."

She liked her sex with a little bit of pain and humiliation; a little savagery and amorality; topped with a dose of tenderness and quiet moments. Those came later; for now, it was savagery.

Daeron's hand smacked her left cheek; she shrieked; and begged for more.

He pushed his cock into Elia's rosebud; listening to her whimpering in satisfaction as she stretched forcefully. His palm came down for another spank; Elia's rump was starting to bloom beautifully. He pumped her anal passage; pouring more and more oil to ease the burn in her forbidden depths.

She whined and begged with delirium when his cock pulled out; and squealed with abandon when it speared back in. Elia's sweat mingled with the oil and her nectar as they gushed out of her cunt. Elia had one hand over her slit, rubbing feverishly.

Then her ass tightened. Elia keened and tensed and and her back arched, her shoulder hunched; he could feel the trickle of her sweet nectar gushing down their legs from their joined hips.

"Such a waste of a perfectly delicious liquor, beloved."

He sighed into her ear, pulling his cock out; then gently sliding it back in. Elia's shudderingly broken and babbled moans pushed him over the edge. The scalding cum in her plugged orifice triggered a second peak.

Daeron laughed tiredly at his wife's almost catatonic state after their high passed. He leaned over her back; hooking her chin up to face him, and over her shouder, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

"I love you."

Elia smiled and he pulled her into his arms; craddling her body as she tiredly sought out his lips for a deeper kiss. She mewled, cupping his face to force their lips closer. His hands on her back began to wander south-

They jerked at the loud banging by the door.

"Mama! Papa!"

They stared at each other, incredulous. Like icy cold water had been doused on them. Children had that effect on horny parents.

"Sssh! Princess! Let's play in the water, don't bother the-"

"No! I want my mama and papa!"

Daeron sighed, "Why can't your handmaiden be a bit more useful?"

Elia smacked his chest playfully, "Ashara is my best friend, don't insult her. Besides, no one can really say no to Rhaenys. She is her father's daughter."

He chuckled, resting his forehead on hers; inhaling her scent and renewed their kissing-

"Papaaaaa!"

He briefly regretted ever having a child; but after they fixed their clothes and unlocked the door; and Rhaenys came in screaming and leaping into his arms; he didn't think he could ever live without Rhaenys anymore.

Or Elia, for that matter... Especially Elia.

\--


	4. Part 4 Silk Bindings

Dislaimer, I don't own Asoiaf.

Part 4. Silk Bindings

She was stretched. Both her hands tied at the wrist by silk manacle, hooked to the tallest chandelier. Her petite form meant she was on her tip toes, entire body taut with exertion as she struggled against gravity.

Her perfectly sculpted body was sinfully bared. Not a single scrap of clothing covered her, excepting the silk blindfold around her eyes, and a thin sheen of sweat. The drops of sweat clung to her skin, glistening her olive tone and enhancing the swell of her hips and the curve of her supple arse. It was a rare sight, a sensuous feast for the eyes; for Elia was Dornish, well used to heat and sweat very little in the comperatively cooler climate of Dragonstone.

From her sweet and tiny lips was an unending litany of Please, no, please, oh Gods, no, please. Daeron's cock was so hard, it was torture to keep it in his pants; yet he endured. Least his lust consumed him and he ravished this beautiful creature without properly teasing her first. Heresy.

Still, it wouldn't do to give his wife cramps. Daeron slipped his leg in between Elia's quivering ones; feeling the wetness of her sweat and the slickness of her hairless cunt seeping onto his leggings. She breathed a soft sigh of relief, sitting on his leg instead of standing on her tip toes, leaning against the wall for a short reprieve as she caught her breath.

Daeron's cane caressed her arse, tracing the curve and the swell, marvelling at the way her skin broke into goosebumps; before striking her peach shaped arse in a swift motion. The cane struck, the wet crack echoed loud, leaving a stripe of dark red on her flawlessly smooth skin. Elia squealed, her entire body arching, and tried to scoot away from Daeron. To no avail, considering her bonds, and only succeeded in smearing more of her excitement on his thigh.

Daeron trailed the bumps of her arched spine with his fingers, licking his lips at her shivering at his touch. Gods, she was addictive.

"You've been a naughty girl, haven't you?" He murmured in her ear, his mouth latched onto the side of her long neck.

Elia whined, "I don't-"

He clasped her mouth. "Ssssh. No back talk. This is your only warning."

She whimpered, nodding frantically in her blinded state.

"Good girl." Daeron cooed, his tongue invading her ear, making her squirm deliciously against him. "If you take your punishment properly," He freed her to mewl needily and his calloused palm cupped her mouth-watering breast; her nipple stood erect and he twisted it gently. Elia made soft keening noises and her cunt gushed with excitement. "I'll reward you."

His cane caressed the red welt it left on her, Elia tensed even as her soaked and swollen cunt unconsciously began rubbing against him. "Only if you take it like a good girl. Understand?"

"Y-yes, ser." She breathed.

Daeron clasped his hand on the back of her neck, his leg still propping her; his cane stroked her sweaty skin, marvelling in the way she trembled in aprehension and anticipation. "Ready, love?"

Elia nodded wordlessly, her teeth chewing into her lips.

"Count, love. And thank me for doing my husbandly duty. Disciplining a wanton wife is such a tedious and thankless task."

His cane lashed, the welt crossing against her first mark. Elia keened into her arms.

"O-one. Thank you, Ser-" She moaned.

He struck her again, this time on the outer thigh. Elia whimpered, her dangling legs jerking helplessly.

"T-two-" She counted obediently, her lower body continued to grind and sought friction against his woolen pants.

He struck on the underside of her slender thigh. She shrieked, rutting her hips desperately as the dark stain on Daeron's thigh spread wider. Daeron groaned, almost creaming his own pants. He lashed her arse three times in quick succession. Elia wailed like a woman possessed, her squirming grew more intense.

Daeron prayed for strength, and growled through his teeth. "You forgot to count, love."

"I'm-" She choked, her body twisting languidly and sensuously in a way that only an accomplished dancer like Elia was capable of, "I'm sorry- Please- No more, love, please-"

Daeron had to consciously stop himself from dry humping her. He lashed her inner thigh; making her scream his name.

"But you didn't count properly, love. And this is a punishment, mind." Daeron ran his nails along Elia's quivering thighs, cupping her swollen and slicked and smooth cunt, "Did you learn your lesson yet?"

"I did! I did, my love, I did!" She sobbed, squirming against him and swaying headily, brokenly babbling, "No more. Oh, Daeron, my love, please, no more. I've learned my lesson. No more. Please, please. Gods, I need you in me. No more teasing. Please. Please. Fuck me..."

Daeron licked his dry lips, swallowed with his drier throat. He caressed the welts on Elia's delectable rump, his angelic wife bodily twitched as she continued her sobs. Daeron slipped a finger into her; the tight, hot, and moist core beckoned at him, threatened to devour his sanity whole.

"Hmmm. I suppose I could excuse you. Just this once. Do you want your reward?"

"Y-yes, please, Daeron, please." Her lilting accent were thicker when she was aroused, "I can't- I need you, love. Need you in me..."

He tweaked her nipple. Elia whined, rocking her hips harder in search for friction. Daeron chuckled into her ear, tightening his grip on her cunt and stroking her hard nub. "But your punishment isn't done yet, you horny girl."

Elia wept, her trying to grind her self on his palm, frantic in search for her elusive release that wouldn't come. "No no no. Please, no, Daeron, no. I'll be good, I'll be your good girl. No more, my love, I can't stand it anymore..."

"You promise to be good?" He stroked his cane against her breast, gently brushing her hard nipples teasingly.

"Gods! Yes! Anything! Just- Pleaseee."

Daeron withdrew his leg. Elia wailed with frustration at the lost of friction. Daeron undid his belt; his soaked and stained pants falling down and was kicked away carelessly. His cane dropped with a clatter, rolling to rest under the bed; forgotten. He angled his cock with one hand, stilling his frustrated wife with another; cursing when Elia's wriggling made him miss.

"Daeron... Hurry..." She gasped.

He thrust into her. Hissing as her hot, wet, and tight passage parted and enveloped him and clamped on him like a second skin. Elia cried out, her head tossed back as she jerked against her binding, trying to sink even further and impaled herself on Daeron's intruding cock. He held her, pressed her against the rough wall of his castle; and fucked into her with abandon, stretching her, and her swollen cunt was so wet it dripped her excitement onto the marble floor each time his cock was fully sheathed in her cunt.

Each thrust was a long and deep and hard stroke; reaching the deepest depth of Elia's sacred passage, and then some more. She moaned with each thrust, whined with each pull, and gasped with each stroke that ground against her sweetest spot. Her body rippled with each hard fuck, accompanied by a meaty, and very wet, smack.

Daeron tried to muffle her moans with his palm, else Elia woke the entirety of the castle; but she opened her mouth instead, pulling and sucking his thumb into her hot and wet mouth. Daeron's cock throbbed. He reached around the woman's waist, and caught her hard nub between his fingers; and when he flicked it, Elia's muffled screams intensified. Her passage grew tighter, her mouth sucked with a desperate urgency.

He buried his teeth in Elia's shoulder, rutting into her with the desperation of a dying man; breathing in the scent of her hair, her skin, and her musky sex; acutely feeling each of the tremor he sent by thrusting into her, and the vibration of her cries in his spine.

Daeron growled wordlessly into Elia's shoulder, stars exploded in his vision as he unravelled inside this woman that drove him insane with desire; at the same time she keened, her tight cunt feeling like a vice and her stuffed slit gushed like a river. Daeron thrusted short and harsh into Elia, riding down from his high; both groaning softly at each impact.

Eventually, they were spent and stilled. Daeron chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to Elia's sweaty neck. He reached over, and untied her bindings; catching her as she went limp in his arms. Daeron brought her onto their marital bed, of red satin with soft pink flower petals scattered on it; he settled her in carefully, mesmerized by the way the pink petals clung to her sweaty olive skin.

He removed her blindfold, revealing her tired but happy deep brown eyes. "Hi," She whispered shyly.

Daeron smiled, settling himself between her trembling legs, and captured her lips in a long and searing kiss. Her arms circled his neck, shaking ever so slightly from exhaustion and pleasure. They held onto one another, alternating between kissing or just staring at each other and smiling like a pair of fools.

"I love you so much," Elia murmured between their lips.

"And I, you." He tucked a lock of her hair that had fallen free from her loose bun.

Her smile turned coy; and she wriggled her hisp deliciously. "I can tell."

Daeron chuckled; nuzzling her neck, nibbling on her colarbone, mouthing on her perfectly perky breasts. He kneaded the pair mounds of flesh; a modest size that fitted perfectly upon Elia's slender frame and, most importantly, the perfect fit for his palms to fondle.

Elia giggled, "I like it when you kiss and touch them."

"How about biting and piching?" He nibbled on one nipple, and pinched the other. Elia's breath hitched, a delicious whine slipping from he lips. Daeron smirked, "You seemed to prefer it more."

She blushed to the roots of her hair; her eyes half-lidded and her lips tucked between her teeth. Her voice breathless and her words lilting, "If it's from you, I like them all, Daeron."

Daeron groaned; his cock twitched violently; it must be some obscure Dornish seduction technique she just pulled on him. Or perhaps, a small voice said to his ear, he was simply besotted?

Besotted or otherwise; the Maiden beckoned. Her hot and sweaty and smooth body thrumming with lust underneath him; innocent brown doe eyes implored him; a set of cupid's bow lips smirking devilishly impatient; the contradiction set his heart thundering like wardrums. He growled deep and low, a second was spent to adjust their bodies; and without further wait, Daeron slammed his entire lenght into his pliant young wife.

Elia screamed deliciously; her nails stabbed and raked at his shoulders, her legs jerkily tried to clasp around Daeron, to no avail given his violent motions. He fucked her with abandon; with only a singular thought to possess her; to own and to dominate every inch of her, inside and out. The raging firestorm in his gut was stoked to impossible height, and it needed an outlet, and with the object of his affection willingly spreading her legs, Daeron let go of his inhibitions, and allowed raw instinct to overtake cultured sanity. A visceral urge to claim and impregnate the perfect specimen.

Crazed as he was, his eyes were fixated on her. He drank in her appearance; the flush of her beautiful olive tone, the darkening of gorgeous brown eyes, the way her sensuous lips formed a small O as he continued to stoke her fire. He listened to her needy moans like a believer to a gospel, using each and every breathless whimper like a map to chart a path to the most explosive release. Her entire body shook with the shockwave of his shameless rutting; tight and supple flesh rippled and quivered, fisting the sheet as she rode the wave of pleasure. Elia's cunt stretched each time he fucked into her, swollen red hot from his delicious abuse; making wet squelching noises from how slicked she was. The entire bedchamber echoed with the passionate throes of pleasure.

The pressure in his gut piled ever higher; Daeron loomed over Elia, he seized her chin, and her pink lips he claimed with a searing kiss. Their mouths locked, heads shifting to find the most comfortable and most accessible spot for the hungry kiss. Tounges darting out to tease and to taste every inch of each other; sucking strongly to leave bruised lips and unbroken strings of saliva between them.

Her smell was intoxicating, the musky scent of sex and sweat, underlaid by the smell of a summer's sun; her taste was even more so, driving him into heady seizures. Daeron didn't last long; he never did whenever Elia looked at him with beckoning half-lidded eyes.

Spots appeared in his eyes, and the urge to clench them was powerful. He fought it back in favor of watching his woman in her throes of passion. Elia's back arched, her entire body rising in a reverse bow to meet him; her eyes blew wide open, her chest heaved, her lips opened in a silent scream.

He pressed his foreheads against hers; their noses touching and breathing in one another as their mouths tried to taste one another, driven by the bottomless hunger of desire.

Eventually, the fire dimmed; exhaustion took hold and he slumped down next to Elia. He laid by his lady; both of them pleasantly flushed and breathing heavily. Daeron's arms circled Elia's still flat belly, drawing the woman's back against his chest and peppered her shoulder and neck with soft and fluttery kisses.

Elia sighed with delight, she took hold of Daeron's hand, and splayed their fingers upon her belly. She smiled, a sweet and shy smile, "I hope its a boy."

"I hope its a girl." He countered, nipping on her shoulder, "One as beautiful and as kind and as delightfully smart and charming as her mother."

She giggled softly, "A boy first. An heir for the throne. And then you can have all the girls you want."

Daeron paused from his preferred activity of kissing Elia, he propped himself up on his elbow and took hold of Elia's chin so they could see eye to eye. "My love, I would never ask for more than you will give."

"And I would never deny your wish." She replied, as bold as her house words. "Your delight is my joy, my Daeron."

He kissed the impossibly lovely and utterly selfless woman. "And so is yours, mine, sweet Elia."

Elia's smile was as radiant as a million suns. "Then, I am the happiest woman in this world."

Daeron held her close to his chest; feeling the way their heart beat to the same tune; knowing that he was the luckiest man alive, to have earned the love and devotion of the Princess of Dorne.

xxxxx

A/N. So, what's up? It's been a long time and I have no excuses. Please don't throw rotten food at me.

In any case, I present you part4. I imagine this one takes place before Rhaenys is born. Like I state at the very beginning, there is no coherent plot in this, just pure and shamelessly cliche fluff. I reckon there is enough tragedy in Asoiaf already, a little fluff is warranted, no matter how ooc or au it may seem.

Lastly, I hope you all enjoyed it. And thank you all for the likes, for taking the time to write encouragements. I can ask for no better readers. Cheers!


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